Sunday - Day 104

I let myself sleep later today.  It took a while to get moving but I got there.

I made the simple syrup for limoncello in the morning and while that was cooling, made enchilada sauce.  Then our grocery order was ready at Jessi's so Bex and I headed down together.

But two miles out, the car shuddered.  Then did it again.  It wasn't a suspension feeling, but acceleration, so there's something going on with fuel.  I think.  And it has a full tank of gas.  Of course.  Because nothing goes wrong unless there's a full tank you can't use.

Bex called AJ to play a game and I meant to call dad to talk about the car.  But I'll do that later.

I cooked some chicken for the enchiladas, and finished and bottled the limoncello.  Now I need to start another batch of limoncello so in a month when this is gone, I'll have more. 

Mama bird was with her babies a lot today.  I snapped a picture, but they are still "dogpiled." 

I'm starting to figure out why things are so hard this week.  It's layers.  It's Tim's birthday, on which he would have been 56.  He's been gone 30 years.  Then there's Eric's death too close to other anniversaries of other young deaths in this family.  Then there's the anniversary of Tim's death next month, and this is the summer of low mood and has been for 30 years.

Add to that the COVID ongoing crazy.  Over 100 days without seeing my parents.  Over 100 days without hugging anyone but Bex.  Last weekend, Tammy and I were going to be at Country Summer.  I just got a reminder that Bex and I were going to see Sheila E. at the Marin Fair on this coming Friday.  And that fair is canceled.  Sonoma's fair is canceled.  The rodeo was canceled.  Life is so bizarre. 

I have had this stupid focus the last two days on my breath.  There are times that I draw a big breath and it feels like I can't fill my lungs.  It's like dropping the hammer at the fair and the puck goes all the way up just below the bell and you can't ring it.  I couldn't quite fill my lungs 9 times out of 10.  And I've been trying too often. 

But I remember I did this as a child.  There were times I had this same sensation and it would bother me so much, and then it would go away without me even noticing.  I think it's stress.  I think it's compounded stress and I am going to figure out a way to calm the fuck down.

So I shut down the computer and phone and did more around the house.  It helped.  The enchiladas were delicious and it felt good to be able to make every component (except tortillas - for now) from scratch.  The croutons were a perfect addition to Caesar salad.  It was a better summer night.  And as I started to wind this night's blog entry up, I realized that I hadn't been focused on breathing for hours, and I could easily take a deep breath.  So I'm going to unplug more and find a way to handle stress better.

We are still well.  I hope you are too.